Looking for Answers
by Jedi Aeryn
Summary: The now-grown daughter of John and Katralla goes searching for the truth.


Disclaimer: Don't own it. Wish I did. Don't sue.  
  
Spoilers: Look at the Princess  
  
  
  
Jylla had certainly suffered the worst monen of her life. A heat wave had occurred on her homeworld, a heat wave lethal to those too foolish or noble to evacuate.  
  
In the past two weekens, the overworked cooling units of the palace had failed. Her mother, father, sisters, and brother, had, like so many others, lapsed into the Living Death. There had been no funeral for the family, for no one but Jylla was left. She was now the sovereign of a kingdom whose survivors were not likely to return.  
  
Jylla would rather have been dead than to live with the agony of loss and the lack of work to numb her pain. She wondered, though, how this could be, whey she had survived the wrath of the heat. As her mother has lain delusional, about to succumb to the dreaded illness, she had said one intelligible word to her last remaining daughter: Crichton. Jylla now tasted the word, rolling it around on her tongue while pondering its meaning. Had it simply been a semi-conscious rambling of a dying woman, or was it more?  
  
Jylla's feet brought her to the room where the bodies of her family were lying in state. Her mother's brownish curls fell down limply beside her devastated body. Her sisters had been fifteen, thirteen, and eight cycles old; her brother had died at eleven. All of them had shared their father's dark hair and their mother's brown eyes.  
  
She gazed at her reflection in a mirror for a long micron. She had blue eyes, and her hair was not quite the same brown as her mother's. She was undoubtedly beautiful, though, with her mother's oval face and perfect nose- something else her siblings seemed to have missed. Why was she different? She was unmistakably the daughter of Katralla; aside from physical resemblance, they shared the same smile and the same natural air of regality.  
  
Jylla needed answers. As royalty, she was accustomed to getting what she wanted. Unable to take the torturous thoughts that had permeated her mind any longer, she stepped silently out of the makeshift morgue.  
  
She was unaware of where her feet were carrying her until she found herself in the palace's docking bay. She made her decision that instant. She boarded the nearest light transport, one of few left, and ran preflight checks. She had never flown a ship before, but the eighteen-cycle-old queen had an unbridled spirit of adventure, something that could not have possibly come from either of her parents.  
  
Jylla somehow managed to fly the small transport out into space, as though her hands already knew what to do.  
  
  
  
Jylla had been drifting aimlessly in space for two weekens, wondering all the while why she was there in the first place. A ship, a small fighter, judging by the size, was on her sensors. Compelled by some unknown force, Jylla sought to retrieve it. It was a Prowler, but it belonged in a museum instead of flying in space. The young monarch scanned it, found a problem with the propulsion system, and brought it aboard.  
  
Inside the one-ship-only docking bay of the transport, the Prowler set down. The woman who emerged from it also belonged in a museum, Jylla thought. She was Sebaccean and at least 130 cycles old. The Peacekeeper- issue leather clothing she wore did not fit her otherwise grandmotherly appearance. It hung so awkwardly from her bony form that Jylla thought for a brief microt that her eyes deceived her. White hair cascaded down her back. Jylla could tell that this woman had once been very attractive.  
  
"Please, sit," Jylla offered, helping the old woman into a chair.  
  
The woman's voice was dry, and it cracked slightly when she spoke. "Thank you."  
  
After several glasses of water and a few food cubes, the woman spoke again. "Please," she begged, "will you help me get back to my family?"  
  
Jylla smiled kindly. "Of course I will. Where would I find them?"  
  
"Aboard the Leviathan Tala," the elderly Sebaccean responded.  
  
"I am Prin. Queen Jylla of." but she was cut off by a curious look from her mysterious guest. "Is something wrong?"  
  
"Oh, no," the woman answered with a faraway expression, "you just remind me of. someone I once knew." The sad look in her eyes escalated before she forced a smile and asked, "So, what brings you to this part of the universe?"  
  
Jylla gave a slight smile and replied, "A valid question, one I wish I knew the answer to myself. I guess that's what I'm doing, looking for answers. I just. I just don't know."  
  
"About what?" the woman inquired.  
  
"About myself, I guess," Jylla answered.  
  
The woman continued giving her sad smile. "How so?"  
  
"I was the only survivor of. of the Living Death on. on my planet. I lost my. my whole family to the heat wave that swept over my home. Then I started wondering. about my family and about myself. You see. oh, why am I telling you this. my mother, Katralla, is among the dead."  
  
The elderly Sebaccean blinked. "Katralla is, sorry, was your mother?"  
  
Jylla looked sorrowful. "Yes. Is that significant to you?"  
  
The woman gave a genuine smile, some of the sadness leaving it. "Yes, actually it is. My name is Aeryn Sun. I am pleased to meet you, daughter of Katralla."  
  
"Please, Aeryn Sun, just Jylla is fine."  
  
"Jylla," Aeryn echoed, then sighed. "There are many things you need to know. I will tell you all of them once we are safely aboard Tala."  
  
  
  
Four solar days later, an unexpected blip appeared on the transport's sensors.  
  
"Aeryn! A ship!" Jylla shouted.  
  
Aeryn entered the room. "Hail it," she commanded. The air of a Peacekeeper warrior had not left this woman. Jylla obliged.  
  
"May I?" the ex-Peacekeeper questioned.  
  
"Of course."  
  
"Unknown vessel, identify yourself," Aeryn ordered, years leaving her voice.  
  
"This is the Leviathan Tala," came the reply, and a dark-headed girl of about Jylla's age appeared on the screen. She gazed at the old Sebaccean in the smaller ship and wrinkled her eyebrows. "Marmoo?"  
  
"Yes, Johnna, it is me," Aeryn responded. "May we dock? There is someone you should meet."  
  
"Well, duh," Johnna grinned. Jylla wondered if her microbes had hiccuped. She did not know that word. The young woman on the screen started speaking again. "See you in a microt." The screen then went dark.  
  
Aeryn smiled at Jylla. "My home," she half whispered. "Please come aboard with me, Jylla. I want you to meet my family."  
  
"Thank you, I will," the young queen responded.  
  
  
  
Once they had successfully docked the ship, the elderly woman disembarked. Jylla followed nervously. The two were met by about forty people, most Sebaccean. There were a few of an odd Luxan-Nebari mix, though, and two Delvians.  
  
"Marmoo!" shouted the dark-haired girl, rushing forward to embrace Aeryn.  
  
"I am pleased to see you also, Johnna," Aeryn said with a smile.  
  
"Lyra, Tina, John, Tir, come here, please," Aeryn said gently. Two gray- haired women, a white-tressed man, and a man with no hair at all walked forward. Aeryn turned to Jylla and spoke again. "Jylla, meet your half- brothers and half-sisters."  
  
"What?" Jylla choked, her eyes widening.  
  
Aeryn sighed again. "Let me tell you a story. One-hundred cycles ago, I was a. friend of a man named John Crichton."  
  
"Crichton," Jylla breathed, recalling her mother's last word.  
  
Aeryn held up a bony hand to silence her, then continued. "We went to your world, where John and Princess Katralla performed the compatibility kiss. Katralla's brother, Clavor, had poisoned her DNA so that she would not be compatible with any Sebaccean. But John ruined his plan when he came along. You see, Jylla, he was Human. He passed the test and was forced to marry Katralla." Aeryn paused here, and Jylla noticed the rapt attention etched on every face. Apparently, this was news to Aeryn's family as well.  
  
Aeryn took a deep breath and trudged onward. "Immediately after the wedding, as tradition states, the two were turned into statues. Due to. unpleasant circumstances, John Crichton had to be turned back only a few solar days later. It was then that he discovered that Katralla was pregnant. He was unfamiliar with the royal custom of injection prior to the wedding."  
  
Jylla looked miserable. "So. so this John was my father? And he didn't want me?" she asked in a very small voice.  
  
"Let me finish," Aeryn said, her voice gaining in intensity. "When he learned of Katralla's pregnancy, he made his decision. He did not want to be frozen in stone for eighty cycles, but he refused to abandon his child. He arranged to be made a statue a second time. However, the palace medics informed him that he would not survive the process again, since it was designed for Sebacceans. It broke his heart. He decided that the man Katralla truly loved would take his place. So the man you knew as your father was made a statue instead. John left the planet with my crewmates again, but he was different somehow. I don't think a day passed when he did not think about the daughter he would never know," Aeryn finished. Tears were in her eyes.  
  
Jylla bit her lip. "He sounds like. like a really great guy."  
  
"He was. In time, he and I married and had four children. They are your half siblings, and I wanted you to meet them. However, due to the eighty cycles thing, I believe that their grandchildren are closer to your age," Aeryn said.  
  
Tir was the first to recover from the shocking tale. The bald man strode over and clapped Jylla on the shoulder. "Welcome to Tala, sis, mi casa su casa."  
  
Jylla tapped the back of her head. "My microbes missed that one."  
  
"It's something called Spanish. My. our dad said it a few times. I think it means that you can sleep in our beds and eat our food for free."  
  
Aeryn gave a small laugh through her tears. "Leave it to John's son to diffuse a touching moment with a joke."  
  
"That's me, Mom," the man replied.  
  
As time passed, Jylla learned more and more about her father from her newfound family. They told her stories, of course, but she learned much more from the way they behaved. They used strange phrases, but they seemed to know their meanings. She inquired about them for a while. The family called them Erpisms. After a few solar days, Jylla learned to politely ignore them. They also had great senses of humor and were among the most adventurous people she'd ever met. Even Aeryn's great-great-grandchildren were quite mischievous, sneaking into other family member's quarters and "test piloting" Prowlers. Jylla was fairly certain that not all of their spunk came from Aeryn's side of the family. She was learning to admire her biological father for who he had been: a brave person, who had a great sense of humor and a well-hidden soft heart. Aeryn told Jylla several more stories, for which large groups of shipmates turned out. They were evidently learning quite a lot about the Human from Aeryn's stories.  
  
"It is very sad that you never met John Crichton," Aeryn commented to Jylla one day. "Humans have depressingly short life spans. John died at the age of eighty-six before you were even born. I still miss him. very much."  
  
I've learned so much about his behaviors, habits, quirks, and even his language just from being around you. However, I must know. Do you have his image?"  
  
Aeryn gave a pained, but sincere, smile. "As a matter of face, I do." Aeryn reached to the locket that she had worm for many years. She flipped it open and handed it to Jylla. The queen peered inside. There was an image of a man who looked Sebaccean. He was not much older than she- perhaps eight or ten cycles- in the picture. She recognized her own hair and startling blue eyes on the face that stared back at her. For the first time since she had met her father through his family, Jylla burst into tears.  
  
"Do you. do you have a way to copy this image?" Jylla choked.  
  
"I am afraid not," Aeryn said with an unreadable expression on her face. "But I do have something else. I will be right back." Aeryn strode out at a much more brisk pace than her body looked like it could support. She returned ninety microts later with a small rectangular object in her hand. She handed it to Jylla. "He called this a picture frame. He made it one day when he was bored and gave it to me. I put his image inside it and have kept it there for nearly one hundred cycles. But I want you to have it. I could never forget John. You never knew him, so you need this far more than I."  
  
"Thank you, Aeryn Sun," Jylla whispered.  
  
"You are welcome. It is the least I could do for John Crichton's daughter."  
  
THE END  
  
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